


the fight for you is all I've ever known

by drowninginmyworries



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Please Don't Hate Me, Purposefully Vague Tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninginmyworries/pseuds/drowninginmyworries
Summary: Ten years is a long time.3,650 days, 87,600 hours, 5,259,492 minutes.Jake learns in a book at the library that a healthy heart beats between 60 and 100 times per minute, so that means his heart has beat somewhere around 420,759,360 times in this hellhole without her.He wonders if a broken heart beats differently, though.Yeah. Ten years is a long time.OrAU where Jake and Rosa don't get out of prison after 8 weeks. They get out after 10 years.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz & Jake Peralta
Comments: 26
Kudos: 122





	the fight for you is all I've ever known

**Come home, come home**

**'Cause I've been waiting for you**

**For so long, for so long**

**And right now, there's a war between the vanities**

**But all I see is you and me**

**And the fight for you is all I've ever known, ever known**

**So come home**

~~~

Ten years is a long time. 

3,650 days, 87,600 hours, 5,259,492 minutes. 

Jake learns in a book at the library that a healthy heart beats between 60 and 100 times per minute, so that means his heart has beat somewhere around  420,759,360 times in this hellhole without her. 

He wonders if a broken heart beats differently, though. 

Yeah. Ten years is a long time.

~~~

Jake memorizes every single letter Amy sends him.

He knows every word, punctuation mark, and smudge of ink. Every splatter from where one of her tears fell, too. 

He tries to imagine her voice saying the words when he reads them. Sometimes it makes him smile, and sometimes it makes him cry. 

He keeps them all organized by week and year in a system he’s sure would make Amy proud. Really, his entire cell is spotless. He realizes that keeping his surroundings like that is one way to feel closer to her, and when the love of your life is seven hundred miles away, you take what you can get. 

He overhears other inmates talk about how over time they forgot how their loved ones’ voices sounded, and the idea of it is so haunting he doesn’t sleep for three days straight, preoccupied with replaying her laugh in his mind. 

Amy doesn’t let him forget her voice though. 

She visits as much as she can, and he can count on seeing her somewhat consistently despite her insanely busy schedule. She juggles her work (she’s a  _ sergeant _ !) and her family with coming to see him. He knows she’s still working on his case, too, even after all these years. No matter how busy she is, she makes it a point to see him. 

Without fail, she always greets him with a tight hug, even stealing a quick peck sometimes when the guards aren’t looking, and that simple contact is enough to keep him going, like water for a dying man in a desert. 

And he’s lived on tiny droplets for ten years.

~~~

That’s his life for a long time. 

Get letters from Amy, read them over and over until he memorizes them, read them even more after he learns them, wait for visiting days, wait for good news that never comes. Repeat.

It’s a truly draining cycle, and he’s sure a little bit more of his soul leaves his body every day she’s not with him. At this point, he’s not sure if there’ll be anything left when his time in prison finishes.

He wonders how Rosa’s doing all the time, too. Sometimes Amy tells him bits and pieces in her letters, and he knows that a few years ago she got her arm snapped in half in a fight. 

She still won, though. Typical Rosa. 

After all this time, it’s almost scary how normal such a horrible life is now. He’s abandoned all hope of ever getting out early or being found innocent, resigned to just dreaming of the day he’ll see the sun from outside a prison yard again and selfishly praying to whatever entity that may be listening that Amy will still be there when he gets out. 

_ I love you, and I’ll never stop fighting for you _ .  _ I will always wait for you.  _

She writes some form of that in every single letter she sends him, and the repetition is comforting. At the same time, it’s heartbreaking. 

Amy kissed the rest of her career advancements goodbye when she decided to stay by his side. 

She’s kept details on that subject purposefully vague, but Jake’s not an idiot. He knows she’s endured every kind of taunt and leer for staying committed to a convicted criminal. Other cops outside the precinct don’t trust her character and believe her to be corruptible, and she’s been on Commissioner Wuntch’s bad side ever since the sentencing. She’d passed her Lieutenant’s exam with flying colors, but no precinct wanted her, and with all the leadership positions filled at the Nine-Nine, she’s stuck indefinitely as a sergeant there. 

_ I don’t want to hold you back _ , he’d written to her through tears a few months after he was sentenced, when the squad was beginning to face the grim possibility of him and Rosa never being exonerated.  _ You can still move on with your life and be happy.  _

_ Life means nothing to me if I can’t be happy with  _ **_you_ ** _ ,  _ she sent back, along with a comprehensive list of reasons why moving on wasn’t an option for her. 

It broke his heart and somehow mended it at the same time.

He still likes to remind her it’s an option for her every now and then, and every time, she responds the same way she did nearly a decade ago. 

Then, one afternoon, as he’s in the middle of writing her another letter, the warden swings open the door to his cell. 

“C’ mon, Peralta,” he grumbles. “Take your stuff and come with me. You’re going home.”

~~~

He’s used to being bullied in these walls. He’s a cop, and it was sort of inevitable that he’d become public enemy number one in prison, but for once, he can’t hear the others’ sneers and shouts. 

His ears are buzzing, his head spinning, his hands shaking as he follows the warden to a private area, clutching the box with his belongings close to him. 

“Wh-What happened?” he manages to say, his voice scratchy from disuse. 

“To my understanding, there was some sort of confession,” the warden says gruffly, pushing a door open. 

The warden keeps talking, but Jake doesn’t hear him, because there in the center of the room, pacing nervously while she chews her lip, is Amy. 

He drops his box in shock, envelopes spilling out across the floor, and his knees nearly buckle. 

“A-Amy,” he chokes out. 

He wants to take a step forward, wants to  _ run _ to her, but he’s frozen in place, like his feet are glued to the floor as he stares, his jaw hanging and eyes swimming. 

“Jake,” she says softly, her own eyes shiny. 

Her voice jars him back to reality, and when she starts to outstretch a hand towards him, something in him snaps back into place. 

They rush at one another, colliding  _ hard,  _ and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels his tears wetting the side of his face. She squeezes him tighter, tighter, and he’s vaguely aware of her body trembling, too, her breaths heaving as she too, cries. 

She tries to move back, maybe to look at him, but he doesn’t want even a centimeter of space between them, so he hauls her back into his body, keeping her still with a vice grip as he rests his chin on top of her head and presses his lips into her hair, desperate to feel her in any way he can. 

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but then Jake finally relaxes his grip enough for her to pull her head back and look into his eyes. She lifts one of her hands to touch his face, her fingers tracing through his scratchy beard.

“Hi,” she says, teary-eyed, resting her chin on the center of the chest as she looks up at him. 

“H-Hi,” he answers back, his voice breaking. His fingers fiddle with her hair, shorter now than he ever remembers it being. 

They both move forward at the same time, their lips meeting as they come together with a quiet sigh. Jake crushes her against him again, like she can’t be close enough.

Her lips are pliant and undemanding; she’s boneless in his arms, just feeling him, one of her hands going up to cup his cheek again. It’s been so long since he’s felt her like this, since he’s been touched so lovingly, and he wants to cry from the distant familiarity of it all.

He  _ is  _ still crying, Jake realizes as the kiss becomes salty, but Amy doesn’t seem to mind, moving her kisses to his cheeks when he chokes on his breath and sucks in a gasp. 

For a minute they just hang onto each other, still trying to gather themselves until the warden clears his throat. 

“Ready?” he asks, and Jake’s eyes go wide again as he turns to Amy. 

“I’m really going home?”

She nods, smiling big and wide and happy, her eyes crinkling up more than they ever have at their corners, and the sight sets his heart on fire. Then, she turns back to a small bag she’d left on one of the seats, pressing it into his hands. 

“I brought some of your clothes for you to change into. I knew you wouldn’t want to walk out of here in whatever you were already wearing.”

He reaches for her face, cupping it in both hands as he moves forward to peck her on the lips.

“I love you so much,” he says, leaning their foreheads together. 

“I love you, too,” she whispers back, before gently urging him in the direction of the bathroom. “Go change. And hurry back.”

He  _ runs _ to the bathroom across the room, and her responding laugh sends bolts of ecstatic joy shooting through his heart for the first time in years. 

He’s out in less than two minutes, dressed in his favorite plaid shirt and jeans and trademark black and white sneakers, and Amy’s face as she takes him in has his stomach bottoming out. 

She reaches for him, and he lets himself be pulled close to her as she rubs her thumb over his cheek. 

“There you are,” she says quietly, exuding relief and love and pure wonder. 

She hands him his box with all her letters, apparently having picked them all up in the short time it took him to change. He holds it in the crook of one arm, and she takes his other hand, entwining their fingers. 

“Come on, Jake. Let’s get you out of here.” 

~~~

The sun is bright, and Amy’s hand is warm as she leads him by the hand to a car out in the lot. He has so many questions on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t fathom interrupting the moment for anything. 

But then Amy’s phone rings, and she presses it into his hands, and his heart jumps a little seeing his mom’s name on the caller ID. 

He answers right away, fielding her questions and reassuring her that he’s okay, and he’s tempted to cry  _ again _ from the way his mom’s voice seems to crack on every word she tells him. 

The conversation is far too short, and his mom hangs up after a few minutes saying she’s going to call the whole family to tell them her baby is finally coming home and that she’ll go visit him tomorrow after he’s back in New York. 

He sighs happily when Amy starts the car once they get inside, AC blasting cool air onto his skin, and Amy leans over the gear shift to press another kiss onto his cheek. 

“Are you hungry?” she asks, rubbing his arm before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the lot. “I have a hotel room for us, but we can pick something up or go somewhere before. What do you think?” 

He  _ is _ hungry.  _ So _ hungry, but he’s also weirdly speechless. 

He nods, and when she squeezes his hand when he doesn’t elaborate he tells her they can go wherever she wants. He sees her eyebrows furrow, but she just lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses it again, and they pick up burgers on the way to the hotel.

It’s nice. Nicer than a place he knows Amy would normally check into, and his chest is tight with the knowledge that she’s shelling out for him. 

“Come on,” she tugs him by the hand. “We can eat in bed.” 

Yeah, that’s  _ definitely _ not like her, and he feels his chest tighten a little bit when she heads for the bathroom, probably to get a few towels to lay out so they wouldn’t get crumbs everywhere. She  _ is _ still Amy, after all. 

She’s going out of her way to make him happy right now and it makes him feel  _ so  _ bad. She wasted ten years of her life waiting on him. Her career, her chance at a family, her reputation were all sacrificed. Because of  _ him. _

And now, she wants to treat him like a king when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

She’s a queen and he’s a pauper, and he shouldn’t even have the right to be eye-level with her. 

“Jake,” she says, and he jumps a little before he turns and forces a smile at her. 

If she can tell it’s not a real one, she doesn’t call him on it, just sits on the bed and pats the space next to her. Wordlessly, he approaches and sits by her, resting his head on her shoulder. 

“I missed you so much,” she whispers, threading her hand through his. “I really can’t believe you’re coming home.” 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, unable to keep the guilt from leaking into his tone. 

“What?” she asks sharply, pulling away to look at him. “What on earth are you sorry for?” 

“Amy, you waited  _ ten years _ for me. And now I’m out, and I don’t know if I was the same person I was when I went in. ”

“I’d wait a  _ hundred _ more years if it meant getting to be with you again. I’d wait my entire life if it meant just being able to see you one more time on my dying day, Jake.”

He opens his mouth, but he can’t find his voice, so instead he just stares at the floor, his chest feeling tight. 

“Jake, I love you,” she murmurs. “I love you, and I know this happened to you and it was horrible, but now you’re back. You’re going home, and nothing will  _ ever _ separate us again. I don’t care about all the time we lost; I only care about everything that’s in front of us. And  _ none  _ of what happened is on you, Jake.”

Reluctantly, he meets her gaze, and the sheer amount of adoration he finds there makes his heart stutter and cheeks warm. There’s no malice or resentment in her expression - just pure love and relief at finally being together again, and it makes his heart ache. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he mumbles, and Amy squeezes his arm tighter. 

“I could be asking you the same thing, babe,” she answers, and his skin prickles at the familiar nickname. 

He leans closer to her, wrapping his arms around her in an awkward hug out of desire to be as close to her as possible. She returns it, and for a second they just lean on each other, quiet and still as they revel in an intimacy neither of them have felt for far too long. 

Then, Jake’s stomach rumbles, and Amy pulls away chuckling as she presses a quick kiss to his head and goes to get the food she left on the table by the door. 

Jake wolfs down his burger in less than five minutes, chugging down his orange soda almost all at once and struggling to stifle the belch that follows. Amy giggles but admonishes him that he’s going to have a stomach ache for eating so quickly. He just rolls his eyes at her with a small grin.

She’s right, of course, less than half an hour later he’s left groaning on his side as his stomach churns. Amy wraps herself around him, pressing small kisses to the back of his neck as she tells him, “I told you so,” in a light voice. 

“Shut up, Santiago,” he tries to tease back, but the events of the day wear down on him, and his whole body feels heavy, so it comes out all slurred together as Amy’s hands drift up to his hair and sift through it. 

He knows his hair is just starting to turn gray at the roots, especially by his hairline, and Amy’s devoting more attention to those areas, tracing them with her fingers slowly. 

“M’ getting old,” Jake mutters with a sigh. “I used to be young and beautiful.” 

He tries to keep his tone light, like it’s a joke, but he really feels like he aged thirty years instead of ten in Jericho. Nothing stayed the same, and even though it may have been vain to cling to what his body looked like, he couldn’t help it. No matter how much he held on though, he still couldn’t control it. No part of him was immune to change. 

“You’re not old,” Amy says insistently, now tracing the muscles in his shoulders. 

“Yes I  _ am _ ,” he groans, and she chuckles beside him. 

“If you’re old, then so am I. I’m only a year younger than you,” she points out. 

Jake shifts in her grip, turning so that they’re face to face. 

Her body wasn’t excused from the effects of ten years, either. Her hair is still mostly the same raven black color it was on the day he met her, but there are gray strands noticeable if he looks carefully. Now that he’s so close to her, he can also see more slight creases in her skin around her eyes, the corners of her mouth, and her forehead. 

She is absolutely ethereal. 

“Nah,” he says dismissively. “You’re timeless.” 

Amy doesn’t allow him to say another word, closing the gap between them as she presses her lips to his firmly, tangling their legs together and caging her arms around him in a grip that promises she will  _ never _ be separated from him again. 

They come together slowly, their touches tentative, clumsy, and unpracticed after so many years apart, but it’s still _so_ _good_. She makes the world melt away around him, chasing away every ugly memory and draining all the sadness from him, even if it’s just for a little while. 

She is everything good and sweet in his life, and there’s no room for anything otherwise as long she’s beside him.

He drifts off after with Amy already asleep on his chest, the sound of her breathing the sweetest lullaby he’s ever known, and he falls into the most peaceful, secure slumber he’s had in a long, long time. 

~~~

They’re at the airport by 6:30 the next morning to catch their 9:00 AM flight. 

He’s bleary-eyed, exhausted, and still unbelieving of everything that transpired over the last twenty-four hours, but when Amy presses a cup of coffee - the  _ good _ kind - into his hand and kisses his cheek, he can’t fight a small, happy smile from forming on his face. 

“Have you heard from Rosa?” he asks once they take a seat at their gate, feeling a little bit guilty that he didn’t bring it up yesterday. 

“Yes, but only briefly. She took a red-eye with Holt last night and should be getting back to New York by the time we’re taking off. I got to speak with her for like, five minutes right before I picked you up yesterday.” Her grip on him tightens. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you already, or given you the chance to call her.” 

Jake shrugs, offering her a small smile. “It’s okay. I didn’t ask. I was a little busy.”

He winks at her, and she giggles a little bit, and for a second it’s like they never lost anything at all. 

He still feels worn down, so he dozes for a bit against Amy’s shoulder while she does a crossword puzzle on her phone. She reads the hints and speaks her thoughts out loud to fill the silence around them. He couldn’t be more grateful. Silence just makes him feel alone and brings back horrible memories of solitary confinement to the front of his mind. 

He’s not sure how long he listens to her ramble, but she eventually gets up to use the restroom. Her phone is on her seat, tempting him, and his heart speeds up suddenly as he recognizes his chance to put plans into action that he should have a  _ long  _ time ago. 

Before he loses his nerve, he grabs her phone with shaking hands, fumbling with the newer technology for a little bit before he unlocks it with the same passcode she’s always used. Then, he calls his mom, crossing his fingers and hoping she’s already awake. 

_Bring the ring when you see us today_ , he tells her quietly after they exchange a few words and he’s sure Amy is still out of earshot. _You still have it, right? Good._ _Bring the ring. I’m done waiting._

Later, after his mom greets him with teary eyes and wraps him in a long hug, she presses a blue velvet box into his hand while Amy takes a call from the captain. 

“When are you going to do it?” his mom asks, radiating excitement. 

“I don’t know. Really, really soon,” he answers, and the conversation quickly switches when Amy comes back into the living room, taking her spot beside him and weaving her arm through his. 

“Missed you,” she says quietly, even if she was just gone for a minute. 

They don’t have minutes to spare, anymore. Every second together counts. 

“I missed you too,” he answers, pressing a kiss to her temple, his stomach in knots as the ring burns a hole in his pocket. 

~~~

He’ll do it soon, he tells himself. He’ll do it soon, because they waited ten years to be together again, and if there’s one thing he knows with absolute certainty it’s that there is no one else for him but Amy. 

In the most tremendous act of love he could ever conceive, she never left, never complained, and never wavered in her devotion to him. She put herself through hell for a decade because she loved him  _ that _ much. 

And he’ll be damned if he’s not going to spend the rest of his life loving her as hard as he can. 

~~~

“The squad wants to get together and have a little something for you and Rosa at Shaw’s tonight at 8:00.”

Amy doesn’t phrase it as a question. She doesn’t say,  _ do you want to go to see the squad at Shaw’s tonight?  _

Jake’s relieved by that, and he looks up at Amy from where he’s tangled with her on the couch. She’s giving him a gentle, non-expectant look. 

He’s only been home two days, but knows it’s evident that he’s having some issues grappling with how overwhelming it is suddenly having freedom of choice again. Even picking out something so simple as what to wear for bed or what to have for a meal is difficult to him. 

Every time Amy asks him little things for his preference on something, like what he wants to watch on TV, he always tells her, “whatever you want,” and hopes she doesn’t mistake his brokenness for apathy. 

The only decision that came easy to him was shaving his beard right away. He thinks if he looks more like his old self, maybe he’ll start to feel that way, too. 

“They do?” he asks, and then he chastises himself. 

Of course they’d want to see him - it’s been ten years. They all wrote to him while he was in prison, not with the same frequency as Amy, but they still tried to keep up with him. Terry wrote to him a few times a year, Charles and Gina a few times a month, and like clockwork, he got a letter every thirty days from Captain Holt. 

He feels a little bad for not calling them right away, but it’s all just been so much. In his first year in prison, he fantasized about all the things he would do when he got out - go straight to Sal’s and feast on their Everything Pizza, watch Die Hard on repeat, throw a big party, invite  _ everyone _ , and get super drunk. He hasn’t done any of it. 

Now that he’s finally out, he finds that all he wants to do is get in bed and tuck himself underneath the covers with Amy and drown out the rest of the world. She feels like his only safe place right now. 

“Yeah, they do,” she answers, her voice free from judgement. “But it’s okay if you don’t feel up for it. They all know it’s a lot.”

Jake swallows hard, feeling numb all of a sudden. 

Even though the power to do what he wants for himself is back in his hands, he feels like he’s never been so helpless. Secretly, he wants Amy to tell him what to do, whether it be to stay or go. She wouldn’t be heavy-handed or tough on him, just tender and understanding, the antithesis of all the prison guards barking orders and reprimands at him. 

He’s not sure he trusts himself to do anything now. But he trusts  _ her _ . 

“What should I do?” he asks her quietly. 

Amy puts one of her hands in his hair, twirling his curls around her fingers. 

“You should do whatever feels right for you,” she begins in a whisper. “Whatever you think is best for yourself. And I’ll be with you for whatever you decide.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

He kisses her cheek before making himself more comfortable in her embrace, closing his eyes for a little bit and enjoying the quiet sounds of her breaths, the rise and fall of her chest. 

“Do you know if Rosa’s going?” he asks after a few minutes. 

He feels her shrug against him. 

“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since the day you got out - Holt went by her apartment yesterday, I think. I should call her,” she says, but she doesn’t make any effort to move. 

They fall asleep for a little bit, and when he wakes up thirty minutes later, his new phone is blinking with a text from an unknown number. 

**[From: 7185550184]**

**I’m in tonight. But only if you are.**

Instinctively, he knows who it is, and he doesn’t even have to think twice about his response. 

**[To: Rosa]**

**I’m in, then.**

Amy positively lights up when he tells her they should go, and later, when they’re getting ready and he’s staring at all his shirts hanging in their closet and struggling to choose one, she takes an unfamiliar sky blue and white checkered button-down off the hanger and presses it into his hands. It still has the tag on. 

“I still bought stuff for you sometimes,” she confesses when he gives her a questioning look. “It made me feel better. I always told myself it’d be a nice surprise for when you’d get back.”

Jake kisses her, quick and firm, and murmurs a barely audible but still so sincere  _ thank you  _ against her mouth. 

“You’re so welcome,” she answers, squeezing him. “Are you ready?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, pressing his lips together in a line. “But I have you. And I want to see Rosa. So it’ll be okay. Right?”

“Definitely.” 

Naturally, they’re the first ones there, and he grins at her despite the nerves because she really is  _ so  _ consistent. 

“For the record, I still think you’re a loser for showing up early to everything,” he says, but he’s smiling. 

“And you’re still crazy for wanting to leave five minutes before the start of every function,” she replies, her eyes twinkling. 

“Hey, just because I  _ want to _ doesn’t mean I still do it! I’m here twenty minutes early with you now, aren’t I?”

“You are,” she concedes, and he gives her a small, triumphant smile. 

Then, at 8:00 PM on the dot, Captain Holt walks in, and when they make eye contact Jake becomes incredibly nervous, a lump rising in his throat. Holt’s expression doesn’t change, and he walks towards Jake with purposeful strides. 

He sucks in a deep breath as the captain stops abruptly in front of him. Jake wrings his hands together. He longs to make a joke, some kind of pun about how robots are programmed to never forget anything so Holt can’t not remember him, but he has absolutely no words. All he can do is meet Holt’s gaze, so much gentler than he’s ever seen it. 

Without a word, Holt steps forward and wraps his arms around him in a tight, protective hug, and Jake returns it out of pure instinct, clutching onto his shoulders hard. He’s surprised when Holt doesn’t let go right away, and for a few moments he feels nothing but warmth and strength and safety wash through him. 

“Wow,” he starts, a little misty-eyed when Holt finally pulls away. “I guess you really  _ did  _ miss me.”

“I believe that is something of an understatement,” Holt says, a small smile forming on his face. “Your absence was noted, and you were severely missed, especially by me.” 

“I missed you, too, Dad.” His eyes widen. “ _ Captain.  _ I didn’t say dad. I said captain.” 

He rushes to correct himself, a little flustered. Amy giggles while Holt’s smile gets a little bit wider, his gaze filled with geniality and amusement

“Sure you did. Son.” 

Holt squeezes his shoulder, and Jake tugs him back for another short hug before they’re interrupted. 

“ _ JAKE!” _

He just barely has enough time to pull back and face the entrance before he’s being tackled, the wind knocked out of him as he realizes he’s being sobbed on. It’s Charles, making an inhuman noise and holding onto him  _ hard _ . 

“Good to see you, too, Charles,” he croaks, but he’s smiling, returning the embrace while Charles sniffles. 

“Oh my god, Jake, I’m  _ so  _ happy to see you!” Charles says, barely able to get the words out between all his crying and excitement. “I always knew you’d get out, Jake, I never doubted! Never!” 

His voice is high-pitched and loud and dramatic without him meaning it to be, and it’s so over-the-top in a way that’s genuinely and unabashedly  _ Charles _ , so Jake can’t help but let out a short, happy chuckle as he hugs him, clapping him on the back.

“I missed you so much, bud,” he says, and Charles tightens his grip on him. 

One by one, the squad shows up.

Jake isn’t able to pry himself out of Charles’ hug until Terry gets there and rips them apart to literally sweep him up off the ground and tug him into another embrace. Gina waltzes in with a flourish and tries to stay cool, but she can’t hide the way her eyes get shiny as she gives Jake a soft shoulder punch. She hugs him a second later, with more force and emotion than he’s ever seen her show in their lives. Even Hitchcock and Scully show up despite retiring from the force a few years ago, although they look more preoccupied with the cake Charles brought along with him instead of Jake being back. 

Jake’s bounced around from person to person for a while, and everyone shows him pictures of their kids. Cagney, Lacey, Ava, and Nikolaj all look like mini-adults rather than the children he remembers. His stomach feels funny when Gina airdrops him an entire album of Iggy’s best accomplishments, boasting about how she’s a true thespian just like her mother. He knows it’s absurd he feels guilty for never being able to meet Gina’s daughter, but he can’t help it. 

Gina must pick up on it, because she reassures him that Iggy still has plenty of time to get to know her new favorite uncle.

He glances at the door every few minutes, frowning when it’s almost 9:00 and Rosa still hasn’t shown. Amy catches his eyes over the crowd, and he politely excuses himself from Charles’ overly detailed stories about Nikolaj going through puberty to go meet her. 

She takes his hand immediately, squeezing it comfortingly, and then he lets go only to weave his arm through hers. 

“Have you heard from Rosa yet?” he asks. 

Amy shakes her head, frowning. “No. She texted me earlier saying she was coming, though, and I don’t think she would just not show up without saying something first.” 

Jake nods, turning back to the happy squad as they all bustle with excited energy. They took him back into their arms immediately, but he still can’t help but feel a little bit  _ other _ . Everything he used to know is different, and the Nine-Nine itself is almost unrecognizable.

Captain Holt is still commanding the precinct, having never moved up after Wuntch made Commissioner. Terry’s a lieutenant instead of a sergeant now, and Amy’s still there heading the uniformed officers on the third floor, but other than that, everything else is so different. 

Gina left after he was sentenced to pursue bigger and better things, feeling too constricted by working at a police precinct. She’s an internet star now, and he’s told he can catch up on her entire career by reading her mememoir. Charles left three years after her, now a sergeant at the fifty-eighth precinct. Hitchcock and Scully retired not long after that. 

With everyone’s departures, an entirely new squad of detectives now resides at his old stomping ground. He tells himself he’ll go back and tell them stories of how he fell in love and found a family there. They have no idea how sacred their bullpen is, how many crazy shenanigans transpired there. Shenanigans that may never happen again now that everyone’s gone. 

Wistfully, he stares back at the squad, and then back at the entrance to the bar. Still nothing.

He whips out his phone to send another text. 

**[To: Rosa]**

**I thought we had a pact.**

Amy, seemingly able to read his thoughts, tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek and tugs him to the bar with an offer to buy him a drink, and he numbly nods his head and follows her. 

She’s in the middle of ordering for them when he hears Charles let out a shriek, and he spins around quickly, his heart jumping into his throat. 

And there she is. 

Rosa stands at the entrance, her hair wild and wind-blown. Her expression is far more subdued than he remembers it, but she doesn’t look calm. She appears trepidatious, he notes, almost spooked. She stares at the squad for a second before catching his gaze. 

Then his legs move on their own as he races to her without thinking, hauling her into an enormous bear hug as his whole body trembles. 

For a few moments, Rosa is completely still, but then she throws her arms around him and hugs him back with bone-crushing force, so hard that he’s sure he’ll have bruises tomorrow. He can’t find it in himself to care. 

She hugs him longer than he expects, almost a full thirty seconds, before she pulls away and clears her throat. Then, she offers him a small, wary smile. 

“Hey,” she tries to say cooly, but Jake can hear the way her voice trembles.

“Hey,” he echoes, unable to keep a small smile from growing on his face. 

There’s a beat of silence, one where they just look at each other and take everything in. 

“It’s over.”

“Yeah. We’re home.” He pauses. “I almost thought you weren’t coming.”

“You know I don’t say anything I don’t mean.” 

“I know. But after everything - I just wasn’t sure, you know?” 

“You can always be sure with me.” 

Her expression is earnest, almost vulnerable, and Jake can sense the new, more profound kinship between them that wasn’t there before, one rooted in shared loneliness and hurt and hopelessness. 

But all that’s finally over now. 

The squad immediately descends on them, and Charles enthusiastically yells out, “group hug!” 

Rosa doesn’t protest when they’re crushed in between all the others. In fact, Jake thinks he even sees her trying to hide a smile.

“So,” she says a little later once they’re seated together, pleasantly tipsy. “When are you going to do it?”

“Do what?” Jake asks, confused. 

“You know. Pop the question. Tie the knot. Get hitched.” 

He takes a deep breath, eyes drifting to where Amy’s talking to Captain Holt animatedly before looking back at Rosa. 

“I don’t know. Soon, though. Really soon.” 

“You’d better,” Rosa says, taking another sip of her drink. “I know we all want to think we have all the time in the world, but that’s not true. It never was.”

“I know,” he concedes. “I need to make every second count. We all do.” 

They drink in comfortable silence for a little while until Amy comes over, dancing to a nonexistent tune as she drags them to the middle of the bar where the squad’s all gathered. 

He and Rosa smile at one another, and then he grabs Amy and starts to spin her around and around until she’s doubled over in laughter as the squad whoops and hollers around them. 

For a moment, he allows himself to believe the years never went by at all. 

~~~

Days seem to fly and crawl by at the same time. 

He spends them relearning how to be a person, not a prisoner or just a number, again, taking pleasure in little things he didn’t get to experience for so long, like hot showers and display temperature pizza and gazing out at the Brooklyn streets through his bedroom window. 

It’s overwhelming, like being dropped in an ocean in a storm when he can’t swim. 

Amy’s the life raft keeping him afloat. She’s always with him when things become too much, distracts him when he needs it, showers him with affection and affirmations and comfort and he loves her  _ so much.  _

But they both know that no one, not even the person who knows and loves him best, can truly understand what he’s feeling.

It’s really no surprise that he and Rosa gravitate towards each other more often than they did before everything went to hell. There’s a new connection between them now, and he finds a certain solace with her that he can’t obtain with anyone else. 

They meet up at Shaw’s a couple of times. Sometimes they sit in silence, and sometimes they speak in hushed tones about everything that happened on the inside. They never talk about that for too long.

“I’m not going back to the force,” Rosa says quietly one night, peering at Jake over the edge of her glass of whiskey as they sit alone in a booth back at Shaw’s. “I won’t go back. Not after everything that’s happened.”

Jake looks up at her sharply, opening his mouth to retort, but then he realizes he doesn’t have one. He doesn’t feel dread at her words like he expects to, either.

There’s only clarity, crisp as a sun-lit summer morning without a cloud in the sky.

“Me either,” he says firmly, a weight suddenly lifted off his shoulders. 

Rosa smiles, a little wistfully, and then she lifts her glass. 

“To moving on, then,” she says. 

“To moving on,” Jake affirms, clinking his glass against hers. 

They both knock back the rest of their drinks, and Rosa smirks at him when he grimaces at the burn in his throat. 

“It’s been ten years,” he defends, his voice ticking up a pitch. 

“Seasons change, but you being a baby doesn’t,” she ribs, and he snorts before half-heartedly punching her shoulder. 

They’re quiet for a moment, comfortably silent, but then Rosa nudges him. He looks up, surprised to see her regarding him seriously.

“You know I love you, right?” she rasps, her voice barely a whisper. 

He stops breathing, because in all the years he’s known Rosa, she’s never said those three words to him. Not when he got back from undercover, not when he went into witness protection, and not even before the trial. 

He doesn’t give her a chance to second-guess herself, closing the space between them and hauling her into a long hug. 

“I do. And I love you, too.” 

He pretends not to see her misty eyes when they pull away. 

~~~

He’s sprawled out in bed with Amy, her hand lazily petting his hair, when he tells her the next morning. 

“Rosa’s not going back to the Nine-Nine,” he says quietly, breaking their comfortable early-morning silence. 

Amy shifts to look him in the eyes, but otherwise her face stays neutral. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she says. “I can’t begin to fathom what you both went through, or what kind of feelings going back would bring up.” 

He’s silent for a moment. 

“I’m not going back either,” he whispers. 

Her hand drifts down from his hair to cup his cheek, and then she kisses him, feather-light. 

“Okay,” she says as she nods, the picture of understanding and grace and patience. “Whatever you want to do, I’m by your side.”

Jake releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. 

He’s  _ so  _ lucky. He has no idea what he did in a past life to deserve her. 

They’re both quiet for a moment, just breathing each other in. Then, Amy pulls away, sitting up.

“I’m stepping down, too,” she says suddenly, and Jake shoots up in bed, alarmed. 

“Ames, you don’t have to do that,” he assures quickly, taking one of her hands and squeezing it. 

“I want to, Jake,” she says firmly, her eyes alight and determined. There’s no room for argument, but he still can’t imagine Amy ever leaving her job at the precinct. 

“What? Since when?” 

Her lips press into a line. 

“I knew as soon as I saw you again.  _ You  _ are the most important thing in my life, and for all the time we lost, I only want to focus on everything we have left. I know a change in lifestyle would be what’s best for that.”

Her eyes shine, and her grip on him tightens. 

“What are we going to do now, though?” he asks. Work was the only thing they’d known for  _ so  _ long. 

“Whatever we want.”

The corners of his lips quirk up. “Move to the country? Live off the land? Open up a small bookstore?” 

Her eyes narrow, and she pounces, pinning him onto the mattress.

“Don’t you dare tempt me with a small bookstore, Peralta.”

He grins up at her, his cheeks aching, and then before he can make any quips her lips are on his, and finally,  _ finally _ , he feels okay about whatever tomorrow will bring. 

~~~

In another life, it happens during the fifth Halloween Heist, and they argue about who the  _ real _ winner is for the rest of their lives. 

In this one, it’s a lot different. 

Jake spends the entire afternoon getting everything ready while Amy finishes up at work. She'd agreed to stay for a few more weeks to tie up loose ends and help train her replacement, a recently promoted detective whose name Jake doesn’t recognize. 

He already knew just how much things had changed in his absence, but listening to Amy talking about the new cast of characters so directly makes him feel odd. And old. 

While he’s not jealous that she’s fielding a bunch of inexperienced uniforms, he has to admit he’s a little envious Amy still gets to busy herself throughout the day while he spends his trying to adjust to being home again. 

Sometimes he’ll go meet Rosa at Shaw’s to drink in silence in the middle of the day, visit Amy at the precinct, or go out to lunch with his mom. When he’s with other people he feels okay. They’re like the anchors in his sea, but when he’s alone, it’s a different story. 

He wants to do  _ so  _ many things, like eat a jumbo-sized pizza at Sal’s all by himself or drive to the nearest amusement park and get on every ride until he hurls, but it feels like every time he’s alone with agency he grows anxious, like he’s walking blinded in a storm. 

So he tries scheduling out his days ahead of time, something Amy’s far too eager to help him with, but even then, it doesn’t really help. The structure keeps him from losing himself completely to anxiety, but he still feels mindless unless there’s someone with him. 

It’s a byproduct of being all alone for ten years, he realizes. There’s no getting over it in a week or a month or a year, no matter how wonderful the taste of freedom is. 

He honestly has no idea how long it’s going to take to become an adjusted member of society again, so he tries his best to be useful at home. He attempts to keep things tidy so Amy doesn’t have to, wakes up with her to make her breakfast before she leaves and sends her off with lunch, and then makes dinner when she gets home. His cooking skills aren’t as sharp after not using them for so long, but he still does an okay job. 

He plays the stay-at-home-husband role pretty well, if he does say so himself. 

_ Boyfriend.  _ Stay-at-home- _ boyfriend _ , not husband. 

Or at least, not yet. 

He’s nervously practicing his speech in the mirror for the thirty-eighth time when he hears her keys in the door. 

“Hey babe!” she calls out, and 

Jake’s entire body thrums in anticipation as he leaves their room to go meet her. She beams when she sees him, reaching out for him before she even hangs up her purse and kissing him firmly once he’s close enough. 

“Hi, Ames,” he murmurs happily, smiling when she pulls him back in for another quick peck. 

They’re definitely overly affectionate with one another these days; he’s far from complaining, though. He wants to dole out as much of his love for her as possible in whatever way he can to make up for lost time - physical touch, acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time, gifts, whatever. All of the love languages. 

“How was work?”

Her face brightens. 

“It was good! Sergeant Davis is picking up on things really fast. What’d you do today?” she asks, hanging up her purse on the rack by their door. 

“Oh, you know, not much,” he begins, nonchalant. “Just planned our date for tonight.”

Amy lifts an eyebrow, but she smiles. “Oh, so we’re going on a date tonight, huh?”

“Mmhm. But I have something for you, first.” 

He pulls her to the living room, and the centerpiece on their coffee table has since been replaced by a bouquet of multicolored gerberas, and he gestures to them with a flourish. 

“Oh Jake, these are so beautiful!”

“Like you,” he flirts, grinning.

She laughs, and like always, it makes his heart soar.

They hang out on the couch for an hour (ie: make out on the couch for an hour) before he ushers her to their room, telling her to go get ready as he coordinates their takeout delivery and Uber arrival. 

She steps out of their room looking completely gorgeous in one of her soft floral dresses, and he can’t keep his grin from widening as he offers her his arm. 

“Where are we going?” she asks as she loops her arm through his.

“Do you  _ really  _ think I’m going to answer that question?” he says, grabbing a bag off the table that has her favorite takeout and wine in it. “Come on, our Uber’s here!” 

The ride to their date spot is  _ excruciating _ for him. He struggles not to give himself away, feeling his pocket to check if the ring is still there about fifteen times before he just plays with Amy’s fingers to distract himself. 

Finally, when they’re dropped off, her jaw drops. 

“The roof?  _ Our  _ roof?” she asks, looking at him with her eyes full of surprise as she smiles at him.

“Yup. I thought we could hang out where it all began, have some dinner and drink some wine, just enjoy each other, you know?”

_ And also maybe get engaged.  _

She kisses him on the cheek, her smile widening. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Amy excitedly pulls him up all the stairs, and when they push open the last door to the roof, her mouth falls open as she takes it in. 

He brought a folding table up here and covered it with a nice tablecloth, along with some chairs. A candle sits in the middle of the table, surrounded by some fancy china that he borrowed from Rosa after a threat that he  _ better _ not break any. Fairy lights are strung on the short walls that border the roof. A blanket hangs over one of the chairs, ready to be spread out for looking at the sky. 

Jake thinks he nailed it, if he’s honest. If there’s one skill he retained to perfection, it’s his ability to execute any romantic-stylez plans. 

“Do you like it?” he asks, and Amy just pulls him into a firm hug, her head resting on his shoulder.

“I love it. I love everything you do.”

Jake shudders pleasantly at her words, optimistic excitement for what will soon follow igniting in his belly, and he presses a kiss to her head before taking her hand and walking to the table, pulling out her chair for her before opening the wine and pouring a glass. 

“How long did it take you to plan this?” she asks, her eyes zeroing in on the food he’s serving. He knows she’ll recognize it from her favorite restaurant. 

_ Ten years _ . 

Instead of saying that, he shrugs with an innocent smile. “I’ve just been thinking about doing something extra special since I got back.” 

They sit and eat for a while, and when they’re done, Jake spreads the blanket out over the roof so they can lay down together, looking up at the sky. Amy’s already a little frisky after only two drinks, and it takes a  _ lot  _ of self control to keep his mind on what he came here for when she’s  _ very  _ persuasively trying to convince him to have some fun. The sexy kind. 

“Hey,” she says once he’s successfully diverted her attention, “you can see the stars tonight.” 

He looks up again, and sure enough, the clouds have moved out of the way to display a dazzling New York night. It’s nothing like stargazing in the middle of nowhere with no city lights to disrupt the view, but a few tiny flecks of bright light are still speckled across the darkness. From the corner of his eye, he sees Amy staring up at them with awe, her lips turned up into a soft smile as she burrows closer to him. 

“Tell me about the stars.” 

“What?” she asks, a little confused.

“I know you spent all those birthdays at the planetarium when you were a kid. So tell me about the stars,” Jake says, drawing her closer. Always closer. 

Amy’s lips curl up in a wide smile at his request, and one of her hands ends up in his hair, just how he likes it. She quietly murmurs to him while indulging in the embrace. She tells him about how the biggest stars burn out the fastest, that they shine by burning hydrogen and helium into their cores, and how their color correlates to their temperature. 

He barely registers it though, too lost in the sound of her voice, the beat of her heart against his, the sight of her so happy and content. 

“Stars are always trying to collapse on themselves,” she says, all her focus on the sky above them. “The force of their gravity is always pulling them inwards.”

“Why don’t they?” he asks, because he never wants to stop listening to her. 

“There’s an outward energy of nuclear fusion at its core. It’s like a balancing act, preventing the force of gravity from causing destruction.” 

She squeezes his hand, and the force of her love hits him all at once. 

He wouldn’t have survived in prison without her, would’ve been a shadow of the person he is now if she wasn’t there for him. She is the force that kept him from destruction. Even before prison, she stripped back all of his defensive bravado and made him acknowledge what was really underneath. 

And before she did that, she made him better. She pushed him to be a better detective and a better person, and so many of the good things in his life point back to her. 

She’s his past and his present, and hopefully, she’s his future too. 

“I need to ask you something,” he blurts as he sits up, the words tumbling out of his mouth on their own accord. 

Amy sits up with him and frowns, mistaking his nerves for distress. 

“Is everything okay, babe? Is something -” 

“Everything’s great,” he interrupts. 

Jake tries to say something and stutters, his mind suddenly blank as he tries to recall the speech he practiced so many times this morning. It’s futile though, and the only thing on his mind is Amy. He’s consumed by her. 

He takes her hand and pulls her to her feet before abruptly bending down on one knee, watching her as she lets out a short gasp and covers her mouth with her hand as he takes the ring out of his pocket. Her eyes are shiny as he presents it to her, and his own vision goes a little blurry as he takes a deep breath. 

“Ames, I love you. I love you so much. You’re the best thing in my life, and I wouldn’t have been able to get through  _ any  _ of this without you. You’re kind, and you’re funny, and smart, and so beautiful. And a million other things I’ll never be able to name. You’re… you’re  _ everything. _ ” 

He breathes deeply, watching her wipe at her eyes as a tiny, overwhelmed smile graces her face. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” she says immediately, her voice cracking. “Yes!!” 

He jumps up and hauls her into his arms, hugging her before kissing her hard. He grips the side of her head with one hand while his free arm curls around her waist, keeping her as close as he can. 

“I love you so much,” she murmurs. 

He finds he can’t speak, so he musters a look that he hopes encompasses everything he feels before releasing her. Then, he tenderly picks up her left hand and slides the ring onto her fourth finger.

Amy holds her hand up to admire it, and he even though knows the diamond isn’t the biggest one in the world, he swears it’s shining as bright as the stars, even in the low light. 

She gives him a dazzling smile and he just pulls her in impossibly close and tries to sear the memory into his brain. 

Then their lips find each other’s, and they don’t move for a little while, too caught up in their embrace. It reminds Jake a little of the hug they shared when she picked him up from prison, only there’s no desperation to this one. It’s just gentle and warm, like a campfire crackling on a dark night. 

Jake sways on his feet, content to just keep Amy against his chest between his arms when she pulls back, a glint in her eyes. 

“Jake,” she starts, voice low and serious, grabbing his attention. “I’m done waiting.”

“Me too,” he says automatically, nodding quickly even if he’s not sure what he’s agreeing to.

He’s a little confused at her quick change in tone. Although the joy is still present on her face, she looks serious too. 

“I mean,” she says, biting her lip and drawing out the  _ n  _ sound, “that I don’t want to wait to get married. What if we get married tonight?” 

“ _ Tonight?!”  _ he exclaims, unable to keep the shock out of his voice, but then an awestruck smile spreads across his face, and Amy mirrors it. 

“Tonight,” she affirms, grinning widely. 

“You - you don’t want to plan a wedding? Make a big binder and get the perfect dress? You don’t want all the bells and whistles?” 

“Maybe later, if you’re up for it,” she says, resting her head on his chest again, her ear against his heart. “But right now I just want to be your wife.” 

“I just want to be your husband.” 

She pulls his head down so she can kiss him again, and then she takes his hand and starts hauling him back to the stairs, laughing. 

“Where are we going?” Jake asks, unable to keep the smile out of his voice as he follows her. 

“To get married!”

His heart stutters because  _ this is really happening _ . He feels like he’s floating, and he’s a little lightheaded. 

“But Ames,  _ where _ ? Who will do it for us this late? It’s almost ten.”

“Don’t worry,” she assures him, turning back to him with her eyes sparkling. “I know exactly who will do it for us right now.”

~~~

Jake can’t keep his jaw from dropping when they end up in front of Captain Holt’s house.

“You’re not kidding,” he says, unbelieving. 

“Nope!” Amy says. “He’s ordained. He married Lynn Boyle and Darlene Linetti all those years ago, remember?”

Oh, he remembers alright. 

He remembers chasing down a perp with Amy, bantering and joking together, getting a ring stuck on his finger, and having a sort-of romantic moment with her when they stared at one another across the dance floor, still too foolish to acknowledge their feelings. 

Briefly, a tremendous amount of regret courses through him for not acting on those feelings sooner. The wedding was only a few weeks before they got together, but he knows he’d do anything to go back and have those extra weeks with her just so they had just a little more time together before they lost everything. 

He might’ve once thought that a few weeks is nothing to an entire decade, but now he realizes it’s the opposite. 

Hell, even just a moment isn’t nothing. It’s  _ everything _ . 

Like this moment as Amy beams at him and takes his hand as they get out of their cab, tugging him up the steps and ringing the doorbell, their happily ever after so close to reality. 

“Are you sure about this?” Jake asks again, his body buzzing with anticipation. 

“Completely,” Amy answers firmly, her own excitement sparkling in her eyes. 

His attention snaps back to the door when he hears footsteps, and then it swings open to reveal Captain Holt already dressed in his embroidered pajamas. He looks between them, confused, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“Santiago? Peralta? What are you two doing here so late? Has there been an emergency at the precinct or with the squad?” 

“No, sir, not at all,” Amy begins, nervous anticipation coloring her voice as she squeezes Jake’s hand tighter. “Jake and I got engaged tonight, and after everything that’s happened we don’t want to wait any longer. We know you’re ordained and that you’ve officiated weddings before.”

She pauses and takes a deep breath. 

“Would you please marry us tonight?” she asks, her voice a little small. 

There’s a beat of silence as Holt’s face shifts, and Jake’s heart jumps to his throat as he swallows hard. He knows a lot of Holt’s expressions, even after all this time, but this is one he can’t read. Realistically, he can’t think of a good reason Holt would say no, but for one agonizing second, waiting for him to respond is torture. 

Then, a smile slowly spreads across Holt’s face. 

“It’d be my honor to marry you two tonight.” 

Jake has utterly zero control of what he does next. 

He pitches himself forward and throws his arms around the captain, and not a second later, Amy’s joining them, murmuring  _ thank you, thank you, thank you  _ as she molds herself around them.

Holt doesn’t move for a moment, allowing them this unabashed display of affection, but then he clears his throat, and they both jump off of him. 

“Sorry, sir,” Amy says, but she’s smiling so big she doesn’t look all that sorry. 

“Yeah. We’re just, uh, excited,” Jake adds. 

Captain Holt just smiles, subdued. 

“Appropriately so. Come inside.” 

Still unbelieving, Jake follows Amy into the house, and Kevin meets them at the bottom of the stairs with a raised eyebrow.

“Kevin, I believe it’d be appropriate if we changed into something a little less leisurely,” Holt says, the shadow of a smile still on his face. 

“What’s the occasion?” Kevin asks, his eyes flitting over to them. 

“Peralta and Santiago have asked me to officiate their wedding. I believe I owe it to them to proceed.”

“ _ Tonight?”  _ Kevin asks, sounding a little incredulous. 

“Tonight,” Holt affirms, reaching out a hand to squeeze his husband’s shoulder in a rare display of public affection.

Then, Kevin’s lips stretch into a small grin of his own, and Jake doesn’t think he can get any happier as he starts to bounce a little on his heels. 

“I’ll change and turn on the lights in the garden. It’s very scenic there, if I do say so myself.” 

The couple walks upstairs, and the energy in the house is suddenly electric. 

“Are we really going to get married in Kevin and Holt’s backyard?” Amy asks him, her lips curving upward. 

“Are you saying that’s  _ not  _ your dream venue?” Jake counters, grinning widely. 

“Shut up,” she says, but it’s half hearted, and she tugs him into her arms again and rests her head on his chest. 

“We’re getting married,” she whispers, excited and disbelieving. 

“We’re getting married!” he repeats, his heart already racing as he squeezes her tightly. “You’re really sure you want to do this right now? No telling family or friends? No guests except for our two dads?” 

He’s completely sincere; as much as he’s been dying to be her husband for the last decade, if she just said the words he’d slam on the brakes and wait as long as he needs to make sure everything is just perfect for her. 

There’s no trepidation on her face though - just absolute certainty. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to marry you  _ right now _ ,” she says with conviction, her gaze warm as she takes his hands in hers and rubs his knuckles.

A breath escapes him, and he feels the grin he’s worn all night make its way back onto his face. 

“Me too.” 

Amy hugs him again,  _ hard _ , and  _ wow _ , he didn’t ever know this kind of happiness existed. 

Kevin and Holt’s footsteps pull them from their reverie, and they turn to face them. They’re both dressed smartly, but not overly so. 

Briefly, Jake looks down at his outfit, and yeah, he  _ so would _ be getting married in a plaid shirt and Air Jordans. 

At least he’s wearing the jeans that Amy says make his butt look extra good. 

She must be having similar thoughts as she attempts to smooth down her mussed hair, so he reaches for her hand again. 

“Hey, you look beautiful,” he assures her wholeheartedly, and her gaze softens. “Perfect.” 

“Thank you,” she says, a little shyly, and weaves her arm through his. 

They smile at one another, and then Holt clears his throat quietly. 

“Would you like the traditional vows, or do you want to say your own?” he asks. “I realize doing it impromptu is not ideal, but - ”

“We’ll say our own,” Amy says, before her eyes quickly flit over to him. “Is that okay, Jake?”

“Of course it’s okay,” he answers automatically. 

Also, if he’s being honest, he’s known exactly what his wedding vows to Amy would be for a long, long time. 

“Very well,” Holt says. “Let’s go outside.” 

Jake turns just in time to see Amy’s face light up again, and then they’re being ushered out the large French doors that lead to the yard. 

He’s been to Holt and Kevin’s home multiple times for varying occasions, but he’s never actually seen their backyard before. He doesn’t expect his breath to be taken away when Kevin turns on the lights, but it is. 

It’s bigger than he expects. Multicolored rose plants line the borders of the lush, green lawn, and the well-decorated patio leads to a freaking  _ gazebo _ in the center of the yard, also surrounded by rose bushes and lit by fairy lights positioned on the ceiling. 

“Captain,” Amy says, a little breathless. “This is so beautiful! I can’t believe it.”

Her voice is tinged with awe as she looks around, and Jake swears Holt’s eyes twinkle. 

“And to think Kevin thought building a gazebo here was  _ overdramatic _ .”

Holt shoots Kevin a look that Jake thinks is almost mischievous; Kevin just rolls his eyes fondly. 

Jake grips Amy’s hand tighter to keep his own from shaking from nerves and excitement. Then as they’re about to set off, Holt stops abruptly and whispers for them to wait. He turns, his eyes focusing on some of the rose bushes along the edge of the yard and then walks briskly towards them. 

Jake’s taken back when Holt leans down and pulls a handful of lavender roses from a bush, plucking off the thorns delicately. 

“Raymond,” Kevin says when Holt joins them again, surprised at the act, but not disapproving. 

“Every bride deserves a bouquet,” Holt explains, holding out the improvised arrangement to Amy. 

She’s visibly touched as her mouth falls open, and Jake feels warmth spread throughout his body as she grips Holt’s arm before he’s able to pull away, stepping forward and hugging him. 

“Thank you, sir,” she says quietly, her voice wavering a little bit. 

Holt slowly puts his arms around her, hugging her with a tenderness that makes Jake’s insides turn to mush. 

“You are so welcome, Amy,” he says softly, indulging in the embrace with her for a few moments before he pulls away and clears his throat again. 

“Shall we?” 

Jake shares a glance with Amy, his heart speeding up as he offers her an arm. 

“Ready?” he asks her, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m ready,” she says, looping her arm through his. 

Together, they walk towards the steps of the gazebo in a mini-procession. He and Amy first, and Holt and Kevin paired up behind them. Once they reach their destination and face one another, Holt steps around them to stand between them as Kevin stands in front of them opposite the captain, looking on kindly.

Clutching her bouquet in her hands, Amy smiles at him, so pure and loving, and he returns it automatically as he watches her eyes light up. 

Captain Holt looks between them with a warm expression and then locks eyes with Kevin one more time. 

“We are here today to celebrate the marriage of Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago. I’ve known you both for the last fifteen years, and I can say with absolute certainty that I have  _ never _ known anyone else to weather such severe circumstances such as those thrust upon you both.”

As beautiful as the captain’s speech is, Jake can’t look away from Amy. He wants to commit every moment of this to memory so that he can remember it all with the utmost clarity - the way her hair’s begun to curl slightly with the humidity, the flush of her cheeks in dim light, the tears sparkling in her eyes. 

He’s going to remember it forever. 

“After all this time, it is abundantly clear that your love for one another has only grown stronger, and it is a true inspiration to witness,” Holt continues. “To say I’m proud of you and that I care about you is an understatement. You are family, and I love you both.” 

Deep down, he knew Holt loved him; it was just a fact, but it had never been voiced. 

So hearing him say it has him doing a double take as he tears his gaze away from Amy for the first time to look at Holt with what he’s sure is a surprised expression. 

He certainly never would have expected Holt to say the words, and hearing them makes a whole new wave of security and contentment wash over him. 

“I love you, too, sir,” Amy says. 

“Love you, Captain,”Jake echoes, grinning widely. 

Holt smiles, and for a man known to be so stoic, his eyes are suspiciously misty. 

“Now, you will recite your own vows?” 

Jake nods, suddenly nervous that he’ll trip up on some words or forget what he really wants to say before he realizes it doesn’t matter. Amy understands what he wants to say, even if he doesn’t. 

She always understands.

“Yes,” he says. “Now ideally I’d be performing an Addams Family themed rap, but my beatboxer isn't here, so I guess that’s your loss.”

Amy laughs, radiant with love and not weighed down by a care in a world. The sound of it is beautiful. 

“Ames,” he begins, already struggling to keep his emotions from overpowering him. “Today is the best day of my life. Though to be fair, I’ve had a lot of the best days of my life with you.”

He doesn’t think Amy will ever truly know just how much she formed his life, even before he realized how wonderful she made his days. She’s a constant in his mind now, and even though he remembers the time before he met her, it feels like an afterthought. It’s nothing compared to the time they’ve shared.

“There was our first kiss, our first date, the first time you told me you loved me. And today, when you told me you would marry me. It shouldn’t be surprising though, because every day I get to spend with you is like the next best day of my life.”

Amy’s entire essence softens, her expression melting into one of pure adoration. 

“That’s true especially now, following the worst of times. Your love gave me hope when I didn’t have anything else, and I feel alive because of you. I love you.”

He clears his throat to keep his voice from cracking. “The end.” 

They both stay looking at each other for a second, cherishing the moment before Holt turns to Amy expectantly.

“Okay,” she says, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “I never thought our wedding would be like this. I never thought that we’d have ten years of longing and waiting between us, but it’s over, and the only thing in front of us is a lifetime of happiness. Even when things are difficult, loving you is still the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

He knows how much Amy loves him. It’s become evident after all the time she spent waiting for him, but to be on the receiving end of such a heartfelt statement has him weak in the knees. 

He should’ve known her vows would be absolute poetry, even on the spot.  _ She  _ is poetry personified, and even if he couldn’t tell anyone the first thing about what makes a good sonnet, he knows hers is the best. 

“Life is unpredictable. Not everything is in our control, but as long as you’re with the right people you can handle anything. And you, Jake Peralta, are the right person for me.” 

Jake can’t help it; he lets out a quiet sniffle as he wipes the corner of his eyes, and like a magnet, Amy’s drawn to him, reaching out to take his hands as she blinks back her own tears. 

Remaining composed, but evidently moved by the sight in front of him, Holt turns towards Amy.

“Do you, Amy Santiago, take Jake Peralta to be your husband?” 

“I do.”

In lieu of sliding a ring onto his finger, she just squeezes his hand affectionately, her thumb rubbing over his palm.

“And do you, Jake Peralta, take Amy Santiago to be your wife?”

“I absolutely do.” 

He mirrors the action, and she twines their fingers together.

“By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” 

He can’t tug her in to kiss her fast enough, but he feels like it’s in slow motion. One of her hands takes purchase at his shoulder, the other on his face as his arms weave around her to bring her close. Her watery smile is lit by the moon and the fairy lights strung up all around them. 

It’s the most spectacular sight he’s ever seen.

Pure, unadulterated joy courses through his body and sets him ablaze when her lips touch his, as his wife for the first time. It’s something he’s dreamed of for a long, long time - since before they were dating, if he’s being honest - and after he was sentenced, it was relegated to nothing more than a fantasy. 

Now, it’s a reality, and knowing that fills him with a tremendous amount of joy. He feels like he could explode from happiness at any second.

_ Finally. _

When Amy pulls away to beam at him with shiny eyes, he can’t help but plant another kiss on her. And another. And another. 

Then, he’s smothering her with kisses, but they’re both smiling so big he’s not even sure it classifies as kissing, and she giggles hard against his mouth. He holds her tighter, shuddering when one of her hands makes its way into his hair and brushes the curls at the nape of his neck. 

Jake finally pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, opening his eyes to find hers already staring at him. He answers her dazzling smile with one of his own, barely registering Holt and Kevin clapping and cheering for them in the background because his entire universe has put its spotlight on her, and he can’t begin to think of putting his attention anywhere else when he has her in his arms. 

Kevin pours everyone the finest champagne he and Holt own, and after a glass, Jake plays a gentle acoustic ballad on Spotify and slides his phone into his breast pocket before holding his hand out to Amy. 

She takes it, and together they slowly sway to lyrics about how she’s his once in a lifetime. 

“You know,” he murmurs to her, lips brushing the shell of her ear, “those vows were pretty good for winging it. You’re so amazing.”

Jake doesn’t see her blush, but he can feel her face heat up against his neck. 

“Uh… They weren’t exactly improvised.” 

He pulls back to look at her face, now bashful. 

“I dreamed about this day for so long that I wrote those vows years ago. I’d say them to myself at night sometimes, especially when I got really nervous. It would always help.” 

Her cheeks are completely red now, and he’s so endeared he reaches up to feel one of them with the back of his hand, rubbing it affectionately. 

“Mine, too,” he whispers, and she laughs quietly, breathlessly before he pulls her into him again, kissing her softly as the song slowly fades away. 

~~~

By the time they get home, it’s so late they can barely keep their eyes open. Jake falls asleep with a smile on his face as he lightly traces Amy’s ring. All thoughts of hopeless and lonely nights spent in his cell now are reduced to a memory made hazier with every touch from his new wife. 

For the first time, he thinks maybe he won’t be broken for the rest of his life over the memories of the last ten years. 

~~~

Jake thinks he was probably born to be Amy Santiago’s husband. 

He adores every part of it, from waking up beside her to lending her his shoulder to use as a pillow to faking that her truly terrible cooking really isn’t that bad. He loves fielding her drunken shenanigans when their friends go out, loves listening to her go on and on about her passions, loves warming her up at night even when her body is as cold as a block of ice.

He loves  _ her _ . 

A month after he got back and three weeks into their marriage, the wound that those ten years left still feels like it’s ripped wide open, but she makes it better. She makes everything  _ so  _ much better, and not for the first time he’s left thinking what in the world he would do without her. 

He refuses to even try to conceptualize a world where Amy doesn’t exist. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to. 

Thanks to Holt generously giving Amy some additional time off, they go to Mexico for a week after the wedding. It’s dreamy and romantic and a wonderful escape from reality - a perfect slice of heaven that he wants to live in forever. 

At the same time though, he also longs for a return to normalcy. He wants to be able to keep making progress in his life so he can move on from everything those ten years in prison stole from him. 

Much like how he can’t imagine a world without Amy, it’s difficult for him to imagine not hurting over all his time spent in South Carolina. 

When she smiles at him though, it’s easy to have hope that someday, hopefully soon, the past won’t burn quite so badly. 

~~~

That day is sooner than he thinks. 

It starts with a bit of a heart attack, though. 

He’s putting the finishing touches on dinner and frowns at the clock; Amy should’ve been home from her last day at the precinct twenty minutes ago. 

Jake reminds himself that she probably got caught up saying goodbye to some of the officers, but it’s not like her to lose track of time and be late getting home. Being late  _ anywhere _ is unlike her, and normally she texts him if something happens that requires further attention from her. 

A bubble of anxiety rises up in his gut when another five minutes pass with no sign of Amy. He doesn’t even want to entertain the thought of something happening to her,  _ especially _ on her last day on the job, but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like maybe it’d be fate’s cruel way of laughing in his face.

Like his happiness is never meant to last so long.

He’s about to look her up on Find My Friends when the silence is broken by his phone ringing, although it’s not the special ringtone he uses for her. 

When he glances at the screen, it reads  _ Terry, _ and he already knows something is up. 

“What’s going on? Is Amy okay?” he asks immediately upon picking up the phone.

A pause.

“Damn, Peralta, how’d you know?”

_ “Is she okay?”  _

“Amy’s okay, I promise! She just couldn’t call you herself since she left her phone in the patrol car. She went with one of the uniforms for backup to bring in a perp, but he took off running and Amy cut herself on some broken glass while she was chasing him.”

“Where is she?” he asks, taking dinner off the heat and calming down enough to remember to cover the pot with tin foil. 

“Brooklyn Methodist ER, room 3.” 

“I’m on my way.” 

He barely remembers to grab his wallet before rushing over, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel the whole drive there. 

It’s not like she’s never been hurt on the job before. She’s been through much worse; he’s  _ seen  _ her go through much worse, but it’s always difficult, especially now that he realizes exactly how delicate and unpredictable life can be.

His nerves are finally somewhat quelled when he finally makes it to her room. 

Amy’s sitting straight up in the hospital bed in her undershirt, her uniform top folded neatly on a nearby chair. A doctor is suturing a laceration on her left bicep. 

Her face brightens when she sees him, and he can’t help but exhale a sigh of relief and move to sit by her bed and take her hand. 

“What happened?” 

“I just fell! I have a couple of cuts, and the doctor says only one of them needs stitches! I got my tetanus shot, too, which is a plus because I’ve been meaning to get that booster for a while now. So really, this was convenient,” Amy says, entirely too chipper for someone in the ER. 

Jake can’t help but chuckle at her perkiness as he squeezes her hand and releases a deep breath, relieved there’s nothing serious ailing her. 

“Okay!” the doctor says, closing the last suture and removing her gloves. “All done! Just visit with your primary care provider or any urgent care center at the end of next week to take them out. Now, I know you fell on your side pretty hard, but your baby should be just fine. We can still take a look though, if you’d like.”

Amy stops breathing beside him, and Jake’s eyes go wide as he suddenly feels his heart go into overdrive. 

_ Their baby? _

“I’m sorry,” Amy begins, voice high. “Our baby? There has to be some mistake…”

The doctor’s mouth falls open for a moment before she schools her face and smiles at them. 

“There’s no mistake, Miss Santiago. The blood doesn’t lie. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know?” 

Jake’s pulse roars in his ears, and he’s completely sure he would fall over if he wasn’t already sitting. 

_ Amy’s pregnant?  _

“But - but I haven’t had a period in  _ months _ . I cried because I thought I couldn’t…” she trails off, her voice growing raspier. 

“You could, and you did,” the doctor assures, grinning wider at her.

Amy squeezes his hand hard and whispers  _ oh my god _ , her other one moving to cup her stomach _.  _

“I’ll give you a moment,” the doctor says politely, standing up and giving them a smile before exiting the room. 

Amy turns to him, her eyes already misty and wide, a tiny but elated smile on her face. It disappears after she sees him though, her expression suddenly falling. 

“Jake?” she asks, nerves coloring her voice.

The shock was initially numbing, but now a pleasant sensation warms his body from the inside out as a feeling he can’t put a name to swells up in the center of his chest and bursts. It feels like warmth and hope and love and happiness; it feels like everything he wasn’t allowed to feel for so long. 

It hadn’t been lost on him that he thought he’d robbed her of starting a family, too. He’d tried not to linger on it since Amy was so adamant about focusing their energy on the future. Even before prison, it was never something he’d let himself dwell on, too afraid and too convinced he’d never be fit to be a father. Now that it’s  _ happening  _ though, he’s suddenly on cloud nine, too overcome with delighted surprise for any old insecurities or fear to register in his brain. 

His mind begins to race, filled with thoughts of a tiny human that’s half of her and half of him giggling and toddling around their apartment, carrying his heart in their hands. 

Another person to love with his entire heart forever and ever. 

“Ames, are we having a baby?” he asks, voice completely soft and awed, a small, overwhelmed smile tugging at his lips.

She nods, her own radiant smile making its way back onto her face as she reaches for him, framing his face with her hands. 

“We’re having a baby!”

He hauls her off the bed and into his arms, lifting her up and spinning her around as she laughs. They knock over a bunch of paperwork by accident, and he bangs his knee against a chair, but neither of them pay it any mind. 

By the time they settle down, the doctor returns, hauling in an ultrasound machine behind her, and they meet their little one for the first time that July afternoon, and Jake never knew that just a tiny blob on a screen could have so much power over him. 

That night he’s the big spoon, his hand splayed protectively over Amy’s abdomen while he dreams of the future that he never dared let cross his mind. 

~~~

Predictably, everyone loses it when they announce they’re expecting a few weeks later. 

Terry screams, Charles cries, Captain Holt smiles, and even Gina can’t help but laugh delightedly. 

Rosa blinks hard to hide her emotion as she chides,  _ you just couldn’t keep it in your pants, huh Peralta?  _

Then she steps forward and hugs them both, groaning when it prompts Charles to shout out for a group hug and flinging his arms around them all before the whole squad joins in.

Rosa still doesn’t complain, and Jake still doesn’t call her out on it in front of everyone, either. 

_ You’ve gone soft,  _ he teases her later when they’re alone, and then he immediately regrets it when she grabs his arm and twists it so hard he squeals like a little girl. 

~~~

He braces himself for the months to come, warned by Terry that they’re probably going to get really difficult at times, but honestly… it’s the opposite. 

Pregnancy makes Amy glow, and if it weren’t for her slowly-swelling abdomen, then there wouldn't be a single telling symptom. 

Okay, maybe a couple. Like 3:00 AM cravings for sour candies and being  _ a tiny bit _ (a lot a bit) more emotional than usual. Also, to his delight, she constantly wants to jump his bones all throughout her second trimester. It’s the dream if he does say so himself, really. 

There’s no morning sickness, no severe fatigue, no headaches, no general feelings of malaise he knows a lot of women experience. It's far from the pregnancy of nightmares Jake’s mom told him about when she was pregnant with him. 

Every day, their excitement seems to grow exponentially at being just that much closer to meeting their little one. Slowly but surely, Amy gets bigger, and he’s extremely giddy once she’s finally showing, unable to keep his hands off of her bump and constantly talking and telling stories to their child. 

He’s terrified of whether or not he’ll be a good dad though. Amy always reassures him that he’ll be the best father in the world with so much certainty he has no choice but to believe her. 

So even though he’s scared, he’s comforted, and excited, and so, so loved. 

~~~

McClane Jacob Peralta is born completely healthy two weeks before Amy’s due date in the early morning hours of a late January day. 

It’s overcast outside, but Jake swears there’s no darkness to be found, only a light burning so bright he thinks it’s enough to illuminate the entire universe. 

Mac screams his little head off, and Amy’s in tears when he’s placed on her chest. She wraps her arms around him so tenderly, and Jake is absolutely awestruck by the way Mac settles down immediately, staring up at her with gorgeous brown eyes. 

Jake can’t look away from him, completely transfixed. His eyes sweep over the length of his small body, taking in the curly mop of hair on his head, the button nose he’s thankful he inherited from Amy, and all of his other adorable, tiny features. He’s certain that nothing this wonderful has ever existed before. 

His world, so hopeless and bleak less than a year ago, is now alive with love and hope and unbridled joy. It’ll never be the same. 

_ He  _ will never be the same. 

Amy gestures for him to come closer, and his eyes widen when she lifts their son towards him, smiling softly when Jake takes him in his arms. 

He’s tiny and beautiful, and Jake can’t fight the tears that suddenly pour down his cheeks as he cuddles him to his chest and murmurs a soft  _ I love you so much _ into his skin. 

“I didn’t think we’d ever get this,” Jake says later after everything’s calmed down and the room is quiet. He’s rocking Mac in his arms while he sleeps, obsessed with the tiny breaths coming from his body. “I thought we lost our happy ending. I grieved over it.”

His tone is quiet, somber, but then he looks up at Amy and smiles sweetly at her. 

“You never gave up, though.”

She smiles back at him, her eyes bright and happy and still a little misty even though he feels like all they’ve done is cry all this time. 

“How could I?” she murmurs. “I love you. I will  _ always  _ love you, no matter what.” 

“I love you,” he echoes, moving to sit beside her on the hospital bed. 

He brushes his lips over her forehead, and she sighs contentedly and rests her body against his side.

Then he looks down at Mac in his arms, still fast asleep. 

“And I love  _ you _ ,” Jake whispers to him, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Just like that, for this one perfect moment, there’s no more room for any concept of pain, or sadness, or hopelessness, or anything in between. 

Of course, nothing will ever take away the suffering of the last ten years. It’s left a permanent scar on him, but as Mac snuffles into his chest, he registers that he can't even feel it. 

He only feels love. 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't describe how special this fic is to me, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it. It's been a struggle to write anything these last few months, and to finally publish it makes me so happy. I really believe this is the best thing I've written to date, and I'm so proud of it.
> 
> Thank you so much to my *wonderful* friend vernonfielding/fielding for encouraging me, helping me, and generally being the best person ever. Truly, you're the best, and this would not be the fic it is without your A++++++ beta skills. <3 
> 
> Also, let the record show that this is a work of fiction. This portrayal, nor my love for its source material, reflects my real-life feelings about the the police. I deeply wish for it to not influence your real-life feelings as well. Thank you. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at @fezzle. Comments and feedback are my lifeblood.


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